


there’s only bright skies about us

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 18:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19215289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: lucas knows better than to feel guilty over waking eliott up when he can’t sleep. he knows that eliott wants lucas to wake him up, even if it’s just to cuddle or if they’re going to talk about what’s causing the problem. lucas knows that he should wake eliott up right now, shake his arm until eliott knows something is wrong and holds him.but he can’t bring himself to do it.or: lucas has a secret to tell eliott.





	there’s only bright skies about us

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER for extensive talk about mental illness, antidepressants, and eliott briefly talking about his past suicide attempt
> 
> say, i may be gone today  
> i may be going tomorrow  
> but do not fear  
> my darling, now i’m here  
> what are you saying, pray  
> what are you trying to tell me  
> you will stay here  
> forever and a year  
> say, can you see them there  
> those darkened clouds in the distance  
> so close to you  
> we ought to go, my dear  
> what are you saying, pray  
> there’s only bright skies about us  
> just look away  
> just turn the other way  
> a drop of rain i swear  
> i felt upon my forehead  
> why is it now  
> i cannot wipe my brow  
> twas not a drop of rain  
> and now your hands, i am holding  
> it was a tear  
> forever and a year

lucas knows better than to feel guilty over waking eliott up when he can’t sleep. he knows that eliott wants lucas to wake him up, even if it’s just to cuddle or if they’re going to talk about what’s causing the problem. lucas _knows_ that he should wake eliott up right now, shake his arm until eliott knows something is wrong and holds him.  

but he can’t bring himself to do it. eliott needs the sleep. he’s been working his ass off studying and doing some project for class, on top of just starting a new barista job and going in early most days. tomorrow (today—it’s already 3:42am) is his first day off in almost a week. lucas doesn’t want to ruin the first good night of sleep eliott’s gotten. he’d never forgive himself.

 _you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t tell him this, either,_ lucas’s subconscious reminds him. guilt tears away at his insides. he’s damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t.

reluctantly, because he knows this is the option least likely to get eliott upset, he rolls over and props himself up on his elbows, and taps on eliott’s shoulder. eliott barely reacts, though, forcing lucas to shake his shoulder a bit and whisper out, “eliott?” the word cuts like a knife through the silent room, and lucas winces.

“baby?” eliott mumbles, voice rough and groggy, and lucas feels like shit. “what’s wrong?” he blinks hard a few times and then wraps his arm around lucas’s waist, pulling him closer.

“i have a secret i have to tell you,” lucas whispers. eliott hums, eyes slipping closed again. his grip goes loose around lucas’s waist, and suddenly tears start to burn his eyes. eliott is _exhausted,_ he can barely keep his eyes open, and lucas is waking him up for nothing.

“what is it, baby?”

but eliott’s eyes are still closed, and lucas can’t do it. he just lays back down, rolling out of eliott’s grip so he can lay flat on his back. “nothing. i’m sorry for waking you up.” his voice wavers and cracks. lucas sends up a prayer that eliott is too out of it for the sounds to register.

for a second, lucas thinks eliott actually has fallen back asleep. but then eliott is moving, and suddenly their bedside lamp is on and eliott is propped up against the headboard. he scrubs at his eyes and blinks at lucas again, his expression much softer than it was before—the burning tears return to lucas’s eyes.

eliott notices, of course. he reaches out to thumb away the few tears that manage to slip. “come here, darling,” eliott encourages. lucas doesn’t have to be told twice. he scoots up and tucks himself into eliott’s side, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. “you said you have a secret to tell me? did you want to tell me now, or did you change your mind?”

“i didn’t change my mind,” lucas mumbles, his voice thick and miserable. it prompts eliott to give him some quick kisses to his hair, but eliott doesn’t actually say anything. lucas knows why. he’s aware that eliott knows that he has to be quiet and let lucas think and open up at his own pace, otherwise lucas will shut down and never share anything. it was a real learning curve for eliott, who is (kind of ironically) surprisingly communicative about these sorts of things. but he’s warmed up to it now, and always gives lucas the time he needs.

the whole thing just makes lucas feel shittier, really. eliott is the _perfect_ boyfriend, impeccably considerate and compassionate, and he always knows the right thing to do or say. lucas, however, can’t get a grasp on emotionally comforting someone to save his life. he’s beginning to believe his daddy issues go deeper than he thinks, and have made him incapable of properly loving someone. he’s shoved that away in a box of problems for later, though, because he can’t think about it too much.

eliott pulls him from his thoughts with a couple more kisses, and lucas takes a shaky breath. he just has to say it, rip it off like a bandaid. if he doesn’t do it now then he never will, and that’s not acceptable.

“you know how i went to the doctor a few weeks ago? for the checkup and stuff?” he asks, and eliott hums in affirmation. he sounds sleepy, though, and the guilt hits lucas again. lucas looks up to make sure eliott isn’t dozing off, and when they make eye contact, lucas immediately looks back down. he kind of wishes eliott had fallen asleep. “well, everything _wasn’t_ fine like i said it was. i’m sorry i lied.”

 _that_ gets eliott’s attention. his back is suddenly ramrod straight and, when lucas looks back up, he can see the concern written all over eliott’s face. the _terror._ it’s then that lucas realizes how it came out, and he quickly sits up properly to cradle eliott’s face.

“no, no, no. i can see you jumping to conclusions on your head and just… no. it’s nothing like you’re thinking.” he swipes his thumbs over eliott’s cheekbones, presses a quick kiss to his lips, and then lays back down. he nearly cries when eliott embraces him instantly. “i mentioned my sleeping issues, which i’ve been struggling with recently, and—hey, don’t give me that look. it’s not your fault that you didn’t notice and that i didn’t tell you. it’s not a big deal, really.”

“clearly it is a big deal, if you felt the need to mention it to a doctor. baby, i thought we agreed to talk about this stuff.”

“we did,” lucas nods. “i’m talking about it.”

eliott sighs heavily, running his hand up lucas’s spine. lucas can’t stand to see the disappointment in his eyes. “yeah, i know. just please talk to me about it sooner next time, okay? i’m not helpless. i can be there for you the same way you’re here for me.”

lucas nods, “i know. i’m sorry. i just didn’t think it was a big deal. but the doctor did, and we did some quick screenings or whatever. basically, they’re not sure yet, but they’re pretty sure i have clinical depression. they referred me to a psychiatrist and they talked a lot about getting me on medications. my appointment is meant to be tomorrow. or, well, today i guess.” it’s 4:08am now.

“okay,” eliott says, his voice slow like he’s not sure what to say to avoid setting lucas off. “and what’s bothering you about that, baby? the fact that you didn’t tell me? because i’m not mad about that, i never would be. i just worry about you, you know? and i want to be there for you. but i’m not angry.”

“no, i know. it’s not that.”

eliott, patient and kind as ever, just nods as though he understands perfectly. and lucas supposes he does understand to an extent, but also, he can’t _possibly._ because eliott didn’t have a mentally ill mother and a piece of shit father and a mentally ill boyfriend (maybe he does now, who the fuck knows?). eliott didn’t grow up hearing that he was meant to take care of everyone. eliott didn’t get it ingrained in his mind that he had to be perfect to be worthy of love.

not to say that eliott didn’t face hardships. of course he did. he’s gone through so much that lucas can’t even begin to fathom, things that lucas isn’t even sure he’s strong enough to endure. eliott has been through so much and has come out as one of the strongest people that lucas has ever known. but that’s not what it’s about.

“it’s not supposed to be me,” lucas says, though he knows it doesn’t make any sense. “it was never supposed to be me. i have to be the one to take care of people, i can’t… i’m not—” he swallows the word _crazy,_ because that’s not the word he wants to use. before eliott, he probably would’ve picked it. but he knows better now. knows that _crazy_ is fucked, doesn’t mean anything—what is _crazy_ and what is _normal_ and who decides these things? “i can’t go on medications. it’s not supposed to be me.”

eliott is quiet for a bit, probably trying to process. lucas understands. he’s not sure he’d know what to say if eliott was giving him these barely comprehensible, slightly hysterical half explanations. lucas doesn’t push. he just lays there and waits, knowing and trusting that eliott will know exactly what to say.

he always does.

“you know,” eliott begins, “it’s not your job to be a caretaker. mentally ill people don’t inherently need babysitters. i hope that’s not how you view your role in our relationship, lucas.”

 _shit._ lucas is such a fucking dumbass. “no, baby, of course i don’t. i’m sorry. it was poor wording. i’m sorry.”

“good. it’s important that you know that. and it’s important that you know that just because you might be prescribed some medication doesn’t make _you_ helpless. being depressed doesn’t mean you’re going to become unable to be there for me or for your mom. it just means that we need to be there for you in return. and you need to be there for yourself, too. your heart is so big, lucas, you keep forgetting that you need to make room in there to love yourself too.”

lucas blushes, buries his head further into eliott’s neck. “i’m scared,” he admits. he can feel how eliott nods—lucas figures he understands that part, all things considered. “what if they don’t work?”

“then they’ll keep trying out new ones until they find what works for you. it took me ages to get my meds right. but, hey, now we can take our meds together! we’ll never forget. we can buy you a little pill box to go right next to mine in the cabinet.”

lucas knows that eliott is trying to help, but it doesn’t work. the thought of taking _their meds_ together, side by side at the sink with their matching _little pill boxes…_ the whole thing just makes lucas’s stomach turn. he sees how much hatred eliott has for those pills, how he looks at the pill box when he thinks lucas isn’t paying attention.

_it’s not supposed to be me._

eliott notices, of course. he sighs, pulls lucas’s head back so they’re making eye contact. “do you want to know what happened before i got on medications?” he asks, his voice gentle and sweet. lucas nods before he realizes what he’s agreeing to. “for one, i thought i could fly, and tried to jump out a window. among a bunch of other stupid shit i shouldn’t have. bought a bunch of things, stole things from a store, posted crazy shit on social media. i was manic for a long time and nobody knew what was going on, because i wasn’t diagnosed yet. i scared the shit out of everybody, because nobody knew what was happening or how to stop it or how to help me. and it scared me, too, because i didn’t know how to stop it either. and then i became depressed, and that scared everyone even more. i didn’t get out of bed for two weeks, and i lost fifteen pounds because i wouldn’t eat. i’ve never seen anyone as scared as my parents and lucille were. not until i looked in the mirror and realized how scared _i_ was, anyway. i was terrified, and i could only think of one way to make everything stop.”

lucas feels his stomach turn. he reaches out, touches eliott’s tattoo. _life._ they’ve talked about it before, but never in detail. all lucas knows is that it was the product of a low point in eliott’s life, reminding him that he would always come out on top.

“you got this tattoo after that, didn’t you?” lucas asks. he already knows the answer, but when eliott nods, it settles in his stomach. nausea hits as the realization does, and if lucas didn’t absolutely need to be in eliott’s arms to process that information, he probably would’ve bolted to the bathroom to vomit. “you attempted suicide.” it’s not a question. he knows the answer.

“yeah,” eliott confirms. “i hated feeling scared and out of control when i was manic, but i hated feeling scared and helpless even more. i felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel and i couldn’t live another day in fear, so i took every single sleeping pill in my mom’s medicine cabinet.”

lucas is crying now, but it’s quiet. he doesn’t really want eliott to know—it would only make eliott feel guilty for telling him, and lucas doesn’t want that. he’s happy that eliott feels comfortable enough to share this with him. he doesn’t want eliott to feel like he’s hurting lucas by opening up, when it’s the opposite.

he just hates hearing about how much eliott was hurting. he wishes he could go back in time and meet that eliott, just to promise him that everything would be okay. even if young eliott didn’t believe him, he just wishes  _someone_ worth their salt could’ve told him that. he gets the feeling that nobody told eliott that enough.

“anyway, going into therapy and getting medications was the best thing i could’ve done. of course i was scared, but i was even more scared of what could happen to me if i didn’t. it was a long process, and definitely not a fun or easy one. but i’m not scared anymore. not of myself. and, yeah, sure, that’s not 100% because of medications. but it was an important stepping stone.” he leans back, smooths his hands over lucas’s face, and wipes some of the tears there. “and, hey, even if you just go to therapy, that’s good too. i don’t want you to hurt anymore, baby. i don’t want you to look in the mirror and see what i did when i was around your age. depression is serious, lucas. you need help, and it’s okay to ask for it. admitting that i needed help is the best thing i ever did, besides asking you to come to the bridge with me.”

lucas presses his lips to eliott’s, knows he can probably taste the tears. lucas doesn’t care. he just loves eliott so much, loves him with every single bit of his heart. honestly, lucas doesn’t know how he lived before eliott.

he’s scared of being depressed. he sees how eliott is, how much it hurts him. he saw it on his mother. lucas doesn’t want to hurt like that. and if therapy and medication can help him like they’ve helped eliott, then… maybe he should just give it a shot.

“if you don’t want to do it for yourself,” eliott murmurs into the kiss, placing lucas’s hand right over his _life_ tattoo, “do it for me. i’ll walk you to your therapy appointment, and we can go for ice cream after. and then we’ll get your pills. okay?”

and, well. lucas has never been good at saying no to sweet boys.

**Author's Note:**

> prompted to me via tumblr
> 
> the title and song lyrics in the notes (i had to post the whole song ok i’m SORRY) is from the absolutely gorgeous song forever and a year by rufus wainwright, from the absolutely gorgeous (yet heartbreaking) movie holding the man 
> 
> find me on tumblr @elullemant


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